Three hours later, Liz was exhausted.
She had taken the subway to the nearest mall, and after going to multiple stores, she just couldn't find something that was above the bland wardrobe she already owned while still being age appropriate. While she thought a midriff bearing top and sparkly jeggings might work for an undercover gig as a prostitute or raver, she wasn't about to pay for them herself. Liz would more likely wear a snuggie; at least then, she'd be warm.
Disappointed at the lack of selection, and resigned to spend the rest of Saturday eating Nutella out of the jar while listening to the catty drama of a bunch of housewives, Liz exited the mall and began walking back to the subway station.
Mere seconds into her travel, she heard the familiar sound of Red's Mercedes slowly creeping beside her and a sheet of bullet proof glass sliding down. Liz groaned and turned to the car, resigned.
"Why, hello there, Lizzie," said Red. "Fancy running into you here. Want a ride? I have to admit I feel a little more like a dirty old man then usual, luring what appears to be a co-ed ingénue into my car, but 'come into my parlor," as the saying goes."
Lizzie examined the small section of Red that was visible though the window. As always, he was impeccably dressed. She was certain there was a bespoke suit and Italian silk tie underneath the camel dress coat and cashmere scarf. His fedora was likely beside him in the car as his tinted glasses glinted in the afternoon sun.
"Is this work related, Red?" Lizzie replied, bluntly. "Because, if it isn't, I'm busy and it's my one day away from being Crisis Control Keen. I really need to decompress and your 'coincidental' appearance here isn't helping."
Red leaned out a bit. "Lizzie, dear, must a friend have a reason to visit? It's absolutely imperative that we spend a little quality time together after all the recent nonsense we've been through. Come now, it's nearly 1:00 and I'm sure you're famished. I know a fabulous Italian place a few streets over. The proprietor is a lovely man, Salvatore. I took care of a little "protection" issue for him a few years back."
Liz hesitated. She was hungry and didn't really want to go home yet. As much as he exasperated her, and the fact she still felt wary in his presence, Red was still the most fascinating person she had ever met, and a far better companion than her thoughts or the overly-tanned matrons of Beverly Hills.
Decided, she nodded briskly and opened the door, as Red slid across the seat to make room. She closed the door and leaned back, inhaling air redolent with leather, illegal cigars and some sort of well-aged alcohol.
His cologne, undoubtedly expensive and custom crafted, was a refined blend of clean restraint and spicy. Liz shook her head and sat up straight. She was not analyzing Red's cologne. That was a little strange. She turned to see that Red was watching her, bemused.
"Getting your bearings?" He asked, "Or trying not to hyperventilate now that you're back in my presence? I understand my charisma is powerful, Lizzie, but do try not to faint. I've misplaced my smelling salts."
She felt her ire rise and was grateful of the redirection of her thoughts. "Red, if you're going to be annoying, I'll just go home." She warned, but it was a toothless threat.
Red smiled knowingly. "My dear, I pledge to be the model lunch companion. Scout's honor." He smiled with a hint of mischief as he held up the Scout sign. "Dembe, to Salvatore's please."
AN: Yes, folks...I'm a bit of a slow plotter. I like a hearty story now and again. If I didn't mention it, this is my first fan fiction after being a lurker FOREVER. Please read and review, if you are moved to do so.